


Satisfaction Brought It Back

by Snare



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM themes, Bottom Derek, Dom Stiles, M/M, Masturbation, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Sub Derek, Top Stiles, Unnegotiated Kink, Voyeurism, brief Stiles/Other - Freeform, mild breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6370414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snare/pseuds/Snare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek doesn't know how nobody else seems to notice the large, ever-present bulge in Stiles' jeans. He can't help but be curious about it, he just - he just wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfaction Brought It Back

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Derek 'accidentally' sees Stiles having rough and brutal sex with someone (top/bigdick!Stiles ;) and he can't stop thinking about it, until he finally gets it from Stiles. (Bottom!Derek please with barebacking please, if you want add mutual confessions of feels)
> 
> TW: just a wee bit of dubcon because of unnegotiated (though not unwelcome) kink. 
> 
> Also, sorry in advance if the tenses in the beginning are a lil wack - Derek's looking back on some things at first, but I might have fucked it up somewhat. Who knows.

Derek knew he shouldn't look, but every time Stiles moved, he couldn't help but notice the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his bulge. It was fucking obscene when he adjusted himself, grabbing at his pants about a quarter way down his thigh. And the kid was constantly adjusting himself, like even in its flaccid state, his cock was just too big to stay in one place as he shifted around throughout the day.

Derek _wants_.

He's not sure how his immature pack has never brought up Stiles' dick size when it's so obvious, and so obviously huge.

He couldn't seem to stave his curiosity, he was always trying to gauge how big it was, how thick. And even then, all he had to go on was the bulge he could see through Stiles' tight jeans, his flaccid state - there was no telling how long and girthy that cock could be when it was fully hard.

He used his fingers, bought a bigger toy, but it only did so much when he didn't know how it compared to the real thing, if it was long enough, thick enough, if there was a vein on the shaft, cut or uncircumcised.

He knew he was taking it too far. He _knows_. And it wasn't his intention, he knows he crossed a line, but -

But.

Now he knows. Not just what it looks like, but how Stiles fucks, how his hands grip too tight and his hips thrust too sharply.

They had all been at the jungle, the whole pack, thinking that they could get some information on a genie that had been spotted nearby. When the plan fell though, the pack decided to just enjoy the night out anyways, as they were already dressed and at the club. Aside from Derek, who was nursing a beer at the bar and declining numbers, everybody was out on the dance floor, lost in the mass of sweating, grinding bodies.

He hadn't been keeping tabs on them - they can take care of themselves - but when he did happen to scan the room for them some thirty minutes later, he saw that all his beta's had paired up into their respective couples, meaning that Stiles was dancing on his own somewhere within the crowd. After a few minutes of searching with his eyes, Derek decided to go try and find the boy, if only to make sure he hadn't been slipped something or ended up pulling his guts out. The scents of sweating bodies overpowered his nose, meaning that he had to look for him the old fashioned way.

The boy wasn't in the bathroom, which meant he really only could have gone outside, which is why Derek stepped out the backdoor of the club. As the door closed behind him, the music dulled out to a low thumping, allowing him to hear the sounds of the night.

Which was when he heard Stiles.

And Derek wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what was happening the moment he heard the low murmuring of Stiles' voice paired with the wet slaps of skin on skin and another unfamiliar voice whining and moaning. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on.

And yet, Derek found himself getting closer, not thinking about what he was doing, yet somehow still mindful enough to make sure his shoes didn't skid too loudly on the old gravel paving the alleyway.

There was a dumpster around the corner that thankfully hid his form from being seen, but he could still peek around the edge of it and see what was going on only about fifteen feet away from where he stood.

The stranger was practically limp and drooling, only being held up by Stiles' strong grip on the back of his neck that shoved his face into the wall, and the large cock relentlessly thrusting in and out of him. The kid was brutal with the way he fucked, practically snarling as he rammed his dick into the other man's hole, causing the guy's hips to slam forward into the cool brick wall of the building.

Derek was immediately hard in his jeans at the sight, barely biting back a helpless moan as he watched how far Stiles had to shift his hips back in order to pull out before fucking back in again.

He wasn't paying attention to the stranger, only paying attention to what Stiles said to him. " _Look at you, felt how big my cock was when you were dancing up against it, and just had to have it inside you like a little bottom slut. Couldn't even wait for a proper bed to do it._ "

Stiles' thrusts had become sharper then, deliberately screwing into the stranger's hole in a way that made the man shout breathlessly.

"Cum." Stiles ordered the man, no room for argument. And the stranger did, sobbing his release onto the wall and slumping forward.

Stiles thrusted in a few more times before pulling all the way out and roughly turning the man around, maneuvering him down onto his knees.

"Open up." He said, and the stranger complied, mouth going slack easily with how boneless he already was.

Stiles easily positioned his cock at the man's lips before thrusting inside with short controlled movements. Not long after, he was going deeper, fucking the mouth before him just as brutally as he had fucked the man's ass only minutes before.

Derek couldn't help himself from rubbing his cock through his jeans as his erection strained at the fabric and stained it with precum.

Stiles gave a few long thrusts before pulling the man's face down onto his cock and holding him there, using him like a toy to cum into as he milked his cock in the stranger's throat, paying no mind to the choking sounds as he found his release.

That was all it took for Derek to cum in his jeans like a teenager: the face Stiles made, the smell of his seed in the air.

After he'd finished, Stiles tugged himself free, ignoring the stranger's gagging. He tied off the condom before tossing it to the side and tucking himself back in his jeans. Stiles crouched down to where the other man was still on his knees, wiped some spit off the stranger's lip with his thumb, and kissed him chastely on the forehead before straightening out and walking away with his hands in his pockets, whistling to himself like he hadn't just fucked somebody stupid.

Derek had a moment of panic as Stiles started to walk his way, and squatted down in the corner behind the dumpster to avoid being seen. Thankfully, Stiles didn't look back as he rounded the corner, going back into the club.

Derek couldn't go back in, he realized. He couldn't face Stiles and he couldn't have the pack smelling the cum that was steadily drying uncomfortably in his jeans, so he fired off a text to everyone saying that he was heading home.

And then once he was back at the loft, he spent a good two hours fucking himself on the largest dildo he owned while thinking about Stiles' hands on him, cumming a total of three times until his prostate was throbbing and sore, his balls empty of come.

***  
A few days after that incident, Derek comes home to find a package on his bed. He hasn't ordered anything, much less brought anything into his house, so he's understandably wary as he approaches it. He scents the air, but nothing seems off, it's just the familiar scent of pack - no obvious magic, nothing that screams other.

He protrudes a claw in order to cut through the tape on the simple brown box, ignoring the slightly sticky residue it leaves on his nail. When he opens the cardboard flaps, all he sees is red tissue paper, but once he digs into it, his hand comes back holding a royal purple dildo, large yet realistic with veins and shape of the frenulum.

Derek rolls his eyes. This was probably Erica's idea, she's always pulling shit like this, and he had actually overheard her the other day talking about getting somebody a huge dildo as a prank. Derek just didn't think she was talking about _him_.

Whatever, jokes on her - Derek will actually get some use out of this thing.

***

He's impatient and he wants to be able to just slam the toy in, but Derek knows that he'll have to work up to four fingers before it'll slide in easy.

He's on all fours, working three lube-slick fingers into his ass. When he slips his pinky in along side his other fingers, another wave of precum dribbles out of the flushed head of his cock, connecting a line from him to a small puddle gathering on his sheets.

Derek groans at the familiar burn; he typically sticks to only using three fingers, but it's obvious that the fourth one is necessary. He works his fingers in and out of his red, slick hole, bearing down until even half of his palm is engulfed in the soft heat of his insides. Whimpering, he curls his fingers up to grind into his own prostate, holding the pressure to milk himself.

Once Derek feels a pooling heat gathering in his belly, he knows he can't wait any longer and grabs the silicone dildo from where it's been tangled up in the sheets beside him. It's slightly cool to the touch, so he warms it up in his hands before he reaches back to position it at his opening.

Even with his thorough prep, the dildo is larger than anything else he's ever taken. The blunt head catches at his rim, and Derek has to push down on it in order to get it past the first ring of muscle. All at once it feels like his body opens up to accept the toy as the head pops into him. The stretch burns in a way that's not entirely pleasant, but just the thought that he's being spread open wide is enough to keep his cock hard and drooling.

Derek's brow furrows in concentration and beads of sweat begin to dampen the strands of hair across his forehead as he breathes heavily through his open mouth. He gives himself a moment to get used to the burn, then repositions himself with the dildo held against the mattress so that he can begin to fuck himself down onto it.

He goes slowly at first, getting a little bit more inside of his hole on each downward motion, the sensation of fullness increasing with every moment. Though he's not very loud in general, he can't keep his small whimpers inside, especially the drawn out one he releases as he lowers himself down until the base of the dildo is flush with his rim.

He's been going easy on himself, seeing that he's not used to the size of the phallus, but Derek has a feeling that if it were really Stiles inside of him, he would not be nearly so forgiving.

With that thought in mind, he makes sure to drag it out all the way, slowly but steadily, before using his hand to thrust it back in, not extremely fast, but hard enough that Derek's sure his ass shakes upon the impact. He continues on like this for a few minutes, even when he wants to just start thrusting it in and out of his hole, because he's almost positive that Stiles would tease him with it, that he'd wait until Derek was begging before he even thought about giving him more.

He wishes he could feel Stiles' long fingers digging into the flesh of his hips as he starts to fuck himself faster. Though his hole has been stretched out to the shape of the fake cock, it still burns as it pistons in and out of him, but the ache only aids the feeling of being filled up.

He changes the rhythm of his movements to make the toy fuck him in hard, deep thrusts, making Derek feel like the silicone is reaching all the way into his stomach.

He's never felt so full before, never been stretched so tight, and he can't help but wish that it were real, that it were Stiles' cock hot and heavy, pounding into him. He wishes Stiles was there, breath hot in his ear as he told Derek every little thing he wanted to do.

The angle changes ever so slightly, just enough that it hits his prostate head on instead of grazing past it. He fucks the dildo in and out of himself with hard, measured thrusts, the head of the toy nearly popping out before he jams it all the way back in. He holds it for a second or two each time he thrusts it inside, imagining that it's Stiles getting ready to blow his load. He follows the motion through a few more times, stuttering out his own orgasm as he pictures Stiles filling him with his hot cum.

***

He thanks Erica for the gift later on, and she only raises an eyebrow and replies with "My presence is your present."

He leaves it at that. It's not like he's looking to have a lengthy conversation about just how much he enjoyed it.

***

Derek calls a pack meeting, just to make sure that everybody is on the same page and that nothing too out of the ordinary is happening. The only thing that really comes up is that Scott found some Wood Trolls out in the preserve, but they seem to be peaceful so it's not a pressing issue.

Allison and Scott are the first to leave the loft after making plans with Boyd and Erica to meet for a double date, and Lydia isn't far behind, saying she has an appointment to get her nails done.

Derek wonders why Stiles is still hanging around, as he's just lounging on Derek's couch playing something on his phone with a bored expression, but he doesn't press it. Instead he just starts cleaning off the table, gathering up the empty cups and chip bags and throwing them in the sink and garbage respectively.

He's a little surprised to find Stiles still on the couch when he comes back from the kitchen, as he expected him to just be finishing up his game before he wandered out like the rest of the pack. Instead, when he walks into the living room, he sees that the younger man is still sprawled out in a comfortable slouch, sans phone, with his arms resting on the back of the couch as he regards Derek with an assessing look.

Derek just raises an eyebrow at him instead of actually opening his mouth to ask Stiles what the hell he wants.

The man in question sits upright and props his chin up on his fist, still holding his gaze on Derek.

"So," he starts conversationally, plush lips forming into a sly grin, "how'd you like my present?"

"Present?" Derek asks, confused.

Stiles rolls his eyes dramatically, "Don't act stupid, Derek. The present I left on your bed a few days ago - ring any bells?"

The realization hits Derek like a ton of bricks, and though he's usually rather quiet, his lack of words now stems from shock.

"But that - that was Erica." He grinds out, his embarrassment manifesting as defensiveness.

The grin on Stiles' face widens at his discomfort. "It really, really wasn't."

Derek doesn't know what to say, so he just doesn't say anything, letting the silence stretch as he avoids Stiles' unrelenting gaze. He crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to feel less vulnerable and hopes that his cheeks aren't actually as hot as they feel.

Stiles sits back again in a faux-casual manner, the quirk of his lips dimming down to a less pronounced, yet still ever-present smirk.

"So, how's you like it? Assuming you used it of course. Did you?"

The older man doesn't reply, but the way his expressive eyebrows furrow downward is answer enough.

"That's what I thought." Stiles says with a smug lilt in his voice. "Did it fill you up like you need? Hit all the right places inside?"

The question gets Derek's hackles up enough that he uncrosses his arms and angrily strides over to the teen, finally meeting his eyes.

"What the fuck, Stiles? Is this your idea of a practical joke? To humiliate me?" He's so fucking angry that Stiles would do this, that the boy he's so fucking gone on would mess with him like this.

Stiles doesn't even react at the harsh tone in Derek's voice. "I was just giving you a taste of what you wanted. That is what you wanted, Derek, isn't it? Why else would you have stayed and watched me fuck somebody in an alley - and don't act like you didn't. I saw when you rounded the corner, you're not as quiet as you think."

Just like that, Derek's off of him, his anger dissipating into guilt and embarrassment. "I - fuck. I'm sorry Stiles, I shouldn't have done that."

Stiles rolls his eyes, "Do you think I would have kept going if I didn't want you to see?"

Derek blinks, the confused furrow of his brows returning.

"If I cared, do you really think I would have made you a toy to see if you could take it?"

This stops Derek short, and he doesn't even think before the question comes tumbling out of his mouth: "Made?"

The smirk that spreads on Stiles' face is nothing short of wicked as he explains himself. "Made. They have kits for that now, where you can make a dildo of the real thing. Honestly I wasn't sure there was going to be enough silicone to fill the mold, but it worked out just fine."

Derek - doesn't know how to react to that. His cock, however, isn't nearly so conflicted as it begins to fill within the confines of his jeans. He's fucked himself on Stiles' cock, or at least the rubber version of it, and the thought of it makes him feel an odd mixture of both arousal and like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing.

"Okay." Stiles says, pushing his hands into his knees as he stands up, like he's getting ready to go.

Derek feels cold rush into his chest, thinking that the young man is just going to get up and walk toward the door - only to see Stiles walking in the opposite direction, towards his bedroom. He stand there for a moment, stock still, before tentatively following Stiles into his room, just in time to see the teen pulling out his desk chair and turning it around to face the bed.

Stiles sits down and raises an eyebrow to Derek, who's standing in the doorway, not sure what to do with himself. "Well go ahead," he says, gesturing with one arm toward the bed, "get your toy and show me what you can take."

Frozen on the spot, Derek doesn't know what to do with the mortification blooming inside of him. He's never done anything like this before. He's had sex, sure, but he's never just gotten himself off while somebody else watched, and the mere thought of it makes him feel both self conscious and aroused.

Feeling emboldened, he makes his way further into his room, still not looking at Stiles as he goes over to his bedside drawer and pulls out the silicone toy along with a half-empty bottle of lube. Though he's trying to hide it, he's sure that it's easily apparent how uncomfortable he is with what he's about to do, even though he knows that it's his own choice.

After setting the items on his bed, he sets about removing his clothes. His shirt comes off easy, but as he undoes the button of his jeans and begins to pull them down, he suddenly feels more vulnerable than he has in a long time, like he's naked in more than just appearance.

He's not wearing any underwear, and he feels unsure of himself, awkward in his own body and hyperaware like he can feel every individual muscle as it moves. Derek chances a look up at Stiles to see that the younger man has been openly gazing at him. The heat in his face intensifies, and he already knows that the tips of his ears are blushing dark pink.

It's only when he lets his vision wander down that he notices the thick line straining against the fabric of Stiles' pants.

The surprise must show on his face because Stiles snorts and says, "What? Did you think I would be unaffected by seeing you like this, seeing how good you are at following instructions? Surely you've seen yourself Derek, you have to know how pretty you are."

"I'm not pretty." Derek grumbles defensively, crossing his arms against his chest as if it does anything to hide how hard he is.

"Are you saying I'm wrong?" Stiles asks with a sudden edge to his voice that makes Derek want to whine in the back of his throat. Maybe he does just a little.

"No, I didn't - that's not what I meant."

"Who's pretty?" Stiles asks.

"What? That's -"

"Derek." The younger man cuts him off with an expectant crook of his brow.

"I am." Derek mutters quietly, chin ducked down toward hi chest.

"You're what?" Stiles pushes.

"I'm pretty." Derek clarifies, dutifully ignoring the way his soft voice cracks.

"Good boy. Why don't you go and show me just how pretty you can be, hmm?" Stiles asks, though it's obviously more of a command than an actual question.

Nodding his head, Derek moves to start crawling onto the comforter, hoping his movements don't look as jerky as they feel. He doesn't know how to start, if he should just get on his hands and knees or if he should lie on his back. He doesn't know if he's ready to look at Stiles while he does this, though, just knowing that the man will be watching him is already nerve wracking enough.

Making up his mind, he gets onto his knees and shuffles forward on the bed until he can grab onto the headboard, his back arched just enough that he's clearly presenting himself to the man behind him.

Derek tries to clear his head as he fumbles with the bottle of lube and pours some out onto his fingers. If he lets himself think too much, he knows he'll just freeze up, so as soon as the liquid on his fingers has warmed to the touch a little, he moves his hand back to rub his fingers across his hole, spreading the wetness around and getting himself slick with it. Stiles doesn't say anything, doesn't make a sound, which makes it easier for Derek to pretend he's alone, that there's nothing unusual about what he's doing. It only works so well of course, because he can't even begin to forget that Stiles is behind him, watching everything he does.

He knows that he's being mechanical, overly methodical with his movements as he inserts a finger into himself like he's just trying to get the prep out of the way, but he can't find it in himself to try and be sexy. All of his energy is being used up by trying not to panic - which isn't to say that he doesn't like what's happening, his leaking cock can stand to testify that he's very much turned on, but it's overwhelming all the same, and he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Derek tries to focus on the sensation of being opened up by his own fingers. He's still nervous, but by the time he gets up to working three fingers inside of himself, he's starting to get lost in it. Without really meaning to, he stops thrusting his fingers into himself and instead starts to fuck his hole back into his fingers. He's got his other arm crooked at the elbow against his wall with his forehead resting against it, and his gasping breaths are making a patch on the wall damp with condensation.

As he begins to scissor his fingers in his hole, showing off the soft gape of his insides, he hears a pleased hum coming from behind him. While remembering exactly what he's doing brings a little tenseness back into his shoulders, the sound takes him back to the task at hand.

He squirts some more lube onto his hand before working in his pinky along the rest of his fingers. When he's sunk his hand palm-deep into his ass, Stiles speaks up for the first time since he got on the bed.

"Do you always go this long without touching your cock? You're practically drooling onto the bed." It doesn't sound like there's any judgement in his voice, just pure observation.

Derek's hand stutters to a stop before he continues his ministrations more slowly than before. He's not sure he could be blushing any harder at this point, but he knows that Stiles won't approve if he doesn't answer the question.

"Sometimes I do, but not when - I didn't think you would let me, thought maybe if you were - if it were you, you wouldn't let me touch myself."

It's silent for just a beat too long before Stiles breathes out, "Good boy." The awe is clear in his voice, and it makes something loosen in Derek's chest as he keeps fucking himself open. "Following orders before I even have to give them." He finishes with a fond lilt to his voice.

"Think you're ready for that toy?"

Derek nods a little without answering verbally as he slips his fingers out of his hole and wipes the excess lube onto his thigh. He grabs the bottle and drizzles some of the liquid onto the silicone toy so that it's dripping down from the head to the shaft. He knows that some of the lube will probably just drip onto the sheets, but with a toy this big, Derek would rather make sure that everything's wet enough that it just slides right in.

Even with the excess of lubrication, the blunt head of the fake cock still faces some resistance as he pushes it up against his stretched out hole. One it pops in though, the glide is slow and easy, filling him up in a smooth thrust.

"Jesus," Stiles mutters, more to himself than anything. "Sucked it right up, didn't you?"

Derek's hips mindlessly stutter at Stiles words, pulling up just a few inches before thrusting down again. He can hear the little slick sounds it's making, but he knows it's still probably too quiet for Stiles to hear.

"You know, I really wasn't sure at first. Thought you'd be such an Alpha top, but that's not what you want, is it baby? Didn't take too long to figure out that you're really a sweet little cockslut. Always glancing down at my jeans, I could see the way your throat bobbed, your pupils going black."

He hears Stiles getting up from the chair, the soft footfalls sounding heavy to Derek as the younger man makes his way toward the bed. stiles follows along the side of the mattress until he perches on the edge with one knee, making the bed dip.

Derek can feel his own heartbeat going haywire as he listens to Stiles', steady and sure, as the man reaches out to land a firm yet soft hand on Derek's hip. Derek whimpers at the contact, the noise pathetic in his own ears, sounding just about as helpless as he feels.

Stiles' grip on him tightens, and he starts guiding Derek's hips up and down along the toy. His hold isn't really enough to move Derek on his own, just firm enough to show the older man how fast and deep to work himself on the toy, setting a steady rhythm.

"I wonder how nobody else sees it, how the pack doesn't _smell_ it when you get all worked up for me. And it's just for me, isn't it sweetheart?"

Derek whines in the back of his throat, hand holding the toy stationary against the bed as he rides it.

"Derek." Stiles says lowly, commanding his attention. "I asked you a question."

He stacks his brain, trying to sift through all Stiles' words, trying to find the question. He feels a hand snaking up his back until it's a heavy presence on the back of his neck. Fortunately, Stiles seems to understand that he's overwhelmed, that he's not exactly in a state to keep track of everything being said.

"Is it just for me, Derek? Or do you want anybody who can fill you up?"

Something in Stiles' voice commands Derek to make eye contact with him, even though it's a difficult task to not hide away from his intense stare.

"No - no, I. Just you. Only ever you."

"And is that all you want, baby? You just want to be fucked real good like you saw outside the club?" Stiles' voice seems somehow void of the nonchalance he's trying to broadcast, and it makes something in Derek's chest hiccup and stutter with the need to make it better.

He turns to face Stiles more head on, and the abrupt action causes the toy to get shoved as deep as it can go inside of his body.

Derek's not sure if his whimper is from the toy or from the words he's saying. "No, I want you, Stiles. Want you."

The younger man's eyes soften at the desperation in Derek's voice, and he reaches a hand up to stroke a thumb across his stubbled cheekbone.

"You've got me."

At that, Derek scrambles away, and Stiles is momentarily lost, thinking that he's said the entirely wrong thing. Only a second later, Derek is on his hands and knees, the toy slowly getting pushed out past his slick red rim before the man reaches back to pull at it, the rubber head exiting his hole with a slick pop. Then Derek's got both hands behind himself, grabbing his asscheeks and pulling them apart as he pushes out his hole, fucking presenting himself to Stiles.

" _Jesus_." Stiles mutters, "Gonna be such a good little fuckslut for me, aren't you? You've got the prettiest hole, just like I told you."

The younger man doesn't waste any time, getting on the bed and crawling until he's kneeling behind Derek. He puts his hands out to knees Derek's toned asscheeks, his thumbs just brushing the cleft. He leans to give a nip at Derek's ass at the same time that he slides both his thumbs into the other man's hole, earning him a soft whine in response.

He feels Derek's sphincter clench around his thumbs, and he smirks before hooking them on the rim and pulling them outwards, revealing the soft wet gape of Derek's hole.

Derek groans, embarrassed at being examined to intimately, " _Stiles_ ,"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Just - stop _looking_."

Stiles leans back immediately, thumbs still hooked inside of Derek's hole, and even though he can't see him, the older man can sense the sudden shift in the mood.

"You don't give me orders, pup." Stiles says sternly. "If you feel unsafe or need to stop at any time, you say 'red' and we'll stop and talk about it. If you need to slow down, you say 'yellow'. But this? Baby, I get to look at you as much as I want, don't I? My pretty boy."

Derek blushes obscenely at Stiles' first use of the word pup, feeling something clench inside his belly, a feeling he's not quite sure he has a name for. The command itself also lets something loose inside of him at the same time, making him feel controlled and safe in Stiles' hands.

He can't find his voice, so he nods his answer instead, his sweaty hair sliding against the sheets under his face.

"Good. Fortunately for you, I don't see much of a reason to wait at the moment. I'll take you apart nice and slow later on."

With that, Stiles removes his thumbs, wiping the residual lube onto the bedsheets. He steadies himself with one hand on Derek's hip as he uses the other to guide the blunt head of his cock to Derek's entrance, waiting for the man to cant his hips back before he starts to push his large girth inside.

He slowly slides his whole length inside, bottoming out with a grunt. Soothingly rubbing his hands up and down Derek's back, he gives a few shallow thrusts to help the other man get used to having the real thing - even silicone shrinks as it dries, so Stiles is still bigger than his own toy replica.

Without any warning, he grips Derek's hips with his long fingers, pulls out slow, and then pushes back in hard, the echo of his hips meeting Derek's ass made even louder by the wet lube.

The slutty sounds Derek makes only spur to make Stiles go even harder, yet he still keeps his pace slow and controlled. He doesn't need to let go, he likes to be in charge, and he knows that he won't be stopping until Derek completely loses himself.

"You sound so sweet, babyslut, did you know that? You make the prettiest little sounds."

Derek's only response is a choked sob that gets wrung out of his throat with Stiles' next thrust.

Stiles slams in particularly hard and settles in deep, leaning over Derek's body so that the older man is caged by his arms. He grinds his cock into the wet heat, making sure that it's in as deep as it will go, making Derek whine. Lowering himself even more, Stiles nips at Derek's ear, then grabs the man by the jaw and tugs his face towards him. If he were a human, Derek would surely have bruises from the action.

"Now, here's the thing, Derek: I'm not going to take it easy on you. You saw what happened at the club, made you all weak in the knees. Is that what you've been thinking about? Getting fucked nice and hard, so even your healing won't be able to stop your poor little hole from being all wrecked and sore in the morning?"

Derek grunts, his eyes meeting Stiles', who still has a firm grip on his jaw. As much as he can in the younger man's hold, he bares his neck to Stiles, a clear sign of submission.

"Good boy." Stiles grins, dark and pleased.

Before Derek can even register what's happening, Stiles releases his grip on his jaw only to shove his face into the sheets. He starts fucking into Derek with a new gusto, just as hard as before, but now even faster.

This goes on for a few minutes, Derek's eyes going glassy as he nears tears from the rough actions, the pleasure/pain combination of Stiles' cock ramming into his prostate with each thrust proving to be overwhelming, yet not unwelcome. He's vaguely aware of the broken sounds he's making, unable to keep himself from crying out under the onslaught.

Suddenly, Stiles grabs both of Derek's arms out from under him, crossing them over his back before he grabs onto his wrists. He then uses the leverage to essentially pull Derek onto his cock by his wrists, leaving the werewolf helpless to do anything other than just go limp and take it. Part of him knows that Stiles is being even more rough with Derek simply because he knows the older man can take it, not having to worry about human bodies that can't heal scrapes and bruises quite so easily.

Stiles is fucking brutal - it's one thing to see it, to fantasize about it, but to actually experience it? Derek has never felt so utterly used before, in the best way possible. He feels like he can just let go, like he can just give up his own control over himself and relinquish it to Stiles without having to worry about the consequences. He feels completely owned, like Stiles could do absolutely anything to him and he would be able to do any thing to stop it. Where the thought should scare him, it only works to make him cry out harder, feel everything deeper.

Then his wrists are being released and he falls unceremoniously back onto the bed, his arms splayed out and Stiles' cock half inside of him. Stiles blankets him with his body, his sweaty skin sticking to Derek's like a fever. A hand snakes around his waist as the other circles around his throat, and Stiles fuck his cock back in deep, beginning to fuck him again, deep but not quite as fast as before. Stiles is panting heavily from the exertion, each hot puff of air hitting Derek's ear wetly.

The fingers around his throat seems to ease up when Stiles slows down and then tighten when he speeds up, making the whole experience more intense than any Derek has ever felt. When Stiles restricts his breathing - not enough to actually cut off his air supply, but enough to making his breathing come in ragged gasps - it's like all he can focus on is every way Stiles is touching him. His own thoughts cease to exist, and it's only the hot drag of Stiles' huge cock forcing its way in and out of his raw hole, stretching it wide and thin. He knows that by now it must be bright red from the friction, puffy from how hard he's being fucked.

Stiles' hand leaves his throat to grab a fistful of his hair and pulls his head back, forcefully revealing his throat. He slows his pace down, only pulling out a few inches before slamming back in, hard enough that it makes Derek jolt forward unsteadily with each powerful thrust.

"You're mine, Derek. _Mine_." Stiles growls into the sensitive skin of his throat, close enough that Derek can feel his teeth moving as he speaks.

"Yours. Stiles - you. Mine."

"That's right, baby, all yours. And d'you know what? Your always so big and strong, but now your an obedient little pup for me, all pliant and weak with my cock all stuffed up inside you. Do you know what that means, sweetheart? Why don't you tell me what that makes me."

Derek whines on his cock, pushing back to get his hole all full and stretched out. " _Alpha_." He sobs out, the realization just as unrelenting as Stiles' grinding thrusts.

As soon as he says it, Stiles is snarling and biting down onto the base of his neck, hard enough to break skin. Derek jerks and comes, the pain of the bite and being owned along with the head of Stiles' cock grinding into his prostate sending him straight over the edge.

Stiles doesn't even let up for a moment, fucking Derek through his orgasm while chasing his own. Derek's hole spasms wildly around his thick shaft, and the added stimulation makes Stiles slam into him with a crazed rhythm, animalistic in his movements. The overstimulation of his prostate being battered makes Derek whine, but Stiles continues on until he suddenly stills, biting down even harder where he's still latched onto Derek's neck.

Even in his fucked out state, Derek can feel the way that Stiles' cock pulses inside of him, the way that his belly suddenly feels warmer inside. Knowing that's it's Stiles' copious release spurting deep inside of him is enough to make Derek's softening cock jerk in a valiant attempt to get hard again.

Softening his jaw, Stiles' releases his neck, laving over the bite marks with broad strokes of his tongue. He licks up Derek's jawline and sweeps back the hair from his face, grinning fondly at the way the older man's eyes seem to be unfocused and vacant.

He lowers Derek onto the bed, then watches the man's sloppy hole as he pulls his cock out. Derek whines when he finds himself empty, his hole winking open and shut, wanting to be filled up. He hears Stiles chuckle lightly as a thumb traces the raw rim of his hole, making him hiss.

Stiles grins wickedly as he watches a trail of cum leak out of Derek's wrecked opening before ducking down and sealing his mouth over the red skin of his hole. He tongues at the irritated skin soothingly, tasting his own cum as Derek cries out softly. With one last lap over the man's hole, Stiles sits back on his heals to admire the mess he's made out of the usually stoic older man.

"Come here, pretty boy." He mutters, manhandling Derek's limp body where the man is too weak and shaky to move it himself. Once he has Derek arranged laying down on his side with a pillow under his head, he lets himself just stroke softly along the man's side, occasionally flitting his fingers over the red bite mark he made.

"Can you do something for me, puppy?" He asks softly, not wanting to break the gentle feeling in the room.

Derek lazily nods, eyes still clouded from his orgasm.

"I want you to listen to my heartbeat, can you do that? I'm just going to go and get a couple things." Derek whines as Stiles untangles himself from the sheets, but Stiles just taps two fingers over his heart with a raised eyebrow to remind Derek of what he's supposed to be doing.

Derek grumbles a bit as Stiles extricates himself from the bed, but still follows his orders and listens to the steady rhythm of Stiles' heart as the man walks out of the room. He can hear Stiles fumbling around in the kitchen, the bathroom, then softly padding back into Derek's bedroom.

Stiles enters with a damp washcloth and begins to wipe Derek down, getting all the sweat and come off of his body before it dries. After that he sits against the headboard and drags Derek up by the armpits to settle in between his legs. Derek wants to gripe about being treated like a child, but he's too fucked out and loose to care all that much.

"Here, sweetheart, open up." Stiles says, holding a bottle of water to his lips.

Derek tries to reach for the bottle instead.

"None of that, pup." He says, batting away Derek's hand.

Stiles tilts his head to look at him with both eyebrows up, expectant. Derek rolls his eyes stubbornly, but still opens his mouth to let the younger man touch the bottle to his lips and make him drink.

Stiles does the same thing with some cut fruit, feeding Derek by hand until it's all gone and his eyes are starting to droop with the need to sleep.

Petting his hair, Stiles says, "Close your eyes, pup. I'll be here when you wake up."

Obediently, Derek snuggles down with his face burrowing into Stiles' chest, his breath slowing to a steady rhythm.

Stiles can't be positive, but he's pretty sure he hears a sleepy " _Alpha_ ," muttered into his skin before the werewolf let's sleep claim him. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the fic, gimme some love. Or concrit, whatever steams your sticky buns. 
> 
> ALSO, if you wanna prompt me or some shit, come join me and my pitiful number of followers on tumblr, [4fuxake](http://4fuxake.tumblr.com)


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